Chasing Windmills
by elphabah
Summary: A simple story of two boys named Matt and Mello, living life without a direction.


"You will never understand," he snarls, twisting the rosary beads between his fingertips. Mello narrows his eyes but doesn't look at Matt. He looks through him, past him; and matt knows he can't hear him when he tries to answer with a clever retort. His words falls on deaf ears. _I know. I know don't understand. And quite frankly maybe I don't wanna. _

_These crazy mind games you play. Hunting down bad guys and glory and justice, it's not for me. _

_I'm along for the adventure, remember? And a few extra bucks. Other then that you can keep your Kira and Near and whoever else claims membership to the corny codename club because I won't get caught up in being a hero._

_Or the anti-hero as it's always been in your case. _

No matter what, Matt contends that there are some puzzles that cannot be solved. Some people that hide themselves in shadows; shifting identities like Noh masks. Act one, the hero is introduced. Act two, he falls in love. And from act four to act six, he spends his time trying to save the girl and save the world from some hideous monster. But in the end he fails at both tasks.

And that's not tragedy, that's reality. And so is the fact that they will never be best friends. Him and Mello. Companions. Brothers. Mello would never allow it because it's true: Matt will never understand. He will never understand what mello thinks is worth fighting for. _ What he does, this life he lives, It's like chasing fucking windmills. _But that doesn't matter so much to him as to the question of _what kind of idiot am I to follow after him?_

And in this world of fools and geniuses, Matt simply cannot keep up with Mello. So instead he plunks down on their moth-eaten sofa and plays his gameboy, only half-listening to the rain falling against the tin rooftop and the blaring music that comes through the walls of Mello's bed room. It pounds the air with rough guttural vocals as some rocker sings of finding salvation through committing sins. and that would be the story of mello's life. A paradox covered in chocolate and crucifixes.

It will be 3 am before he goes to sleep so matt can sneak into his bedroom and turn the music off. Because even if Mello doesn't care what the neighbors think, it's only because Matt is usually the one who answers the door when the landlord comes by raging and fuming over the musical garbage.

_ i Let's see you control him, buddy. 'Cause I would like to see anyone who thinks they can tell mello that he can't do something._ _ /i _But most people, including the landlord, are naturally cautious of guys with peroxide blond hair and a pistol in their face. You can't control someone like Mello. That would be controlling fire.

And not just a candle flame but a forest fire that just burns and burns, consuming everything.

"We are going to California,'" Mello announces at breakfast. He holds his spoon poised above the bowl of coco puffs, brow furrowed in concentration. Matt is drinking his midmorning coffee and pauses, waiting for Mello to continue.

Silence. The absence of sound fills the air until matt draws a breath and asks, "why? What's wrong with New York?' but immediately after asking the question, he regrets it.

"_ i Nothing /i _Matt' Mello grits his teeth and answers with a barbed-wire voice, 'but we have things to do in Los Angeles; so pack the essentials and be ready by one, otherwise I'm leaving without you.' and he's gone, grabbing his vinyl jacket and stomping out the front door. Just like that.

Matt waits until he can no longer hear Mello's heavy footsteps before finishing his coffee and putting the milk and cereal away. Always cleaning up after Mello; picking up the pieces after he breaks one of the bathroom mirrors, washing the dishes when Mello leaves the flat in a huff. It could get old after awhile but for matt it becomes routine. What would appear to some as the aftermath of some cataclysmic disaster was really just another conclusion to an episode of Mello's high voltage tantrum.

_ i For a genius, he can be such a fucking little kid._ /i 

He hates the way Mello talks to him but lets it go because that's the way he talks to everybody. It's never personal. The bad boy complex is just who he is. But lately Matt has noticed that Mello is becoming more unhinged and his temper is flaring even at the most slightest provocation. And its all because of _ i him /i ._

Or rather, Mello's obsession to be better then this other boy.

Near. He's the reason they will travel thousands of miles in the next few days, leaving one coast for the other on a whim. Matt has never met this other person but he wonders what kind of guy he is; someone who can trigger Mello into reaction. Mello was never clear why he was going to capture Kira, his explanations change from time to time to suit the situation, but after all these months matt thinks he has finally figured it out. It's not that the act of catching Kira will bring mello any morally-upstanding satisfaction. That would clash against mello's nature. No, mello wants to dominate, to defeat Near. And this is just another way to do that because evidently childhood rivalry doesn't die on the playground. At least not with these two.

Sometimes Matt wonders if his chocolate-chomping maniac of a roommate really even cares about those around him. So focused on his objective, after awhile doesn't everyone become expendable? If this just a chess game between two warped prodigies then what does that make Matt? And even if he is indeed just a piece on a black and white board, he hopes he could at least be a bishop or a knight. Matt avoids the contemplation of being a pawn perhaps because that's just too wincingly obvious.

And so while boxing up their computers, quickly, because he only has a few hours, matt comes to terms with the fact that he means many things, or easily enough, nothing at all to mello.


End file.
